


Stories Don't Mean Anything

by LucySpencer



Series: Those Graces [37]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Made Myself Cry, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Miscarriage, Nick is still the best little brother ever, Not Happy, Not What It Looks Like, POV Second Person, Sorry Not Sorry, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This keeps happening, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?, but first it will piss you off, seriously what am I doing, the truth will set you free, you guys this is getting out of control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:03:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3572354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucySpencer/pseuds/LucySpencer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>so many stories of where I've been and how I got to where I am.</i> Atomic bombs, secret hipsters, and lost chances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stories Don't Mean Anything

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This will be a quick little note...I'm going out of town for a week so I've been busy trying to get this chapter done before I leave. I've succeeded, I just may not get any sleep...ha. Priorities.
> 
> A/N: this chapter isn't violent, but it is sad. There's also references to pregnancy loss so if this is a sensitive subject for you, please be advised. Beware of closet hipster!Nick. Shoutout to Colleen for providing the band name. Title and all quotes from _the story_ by brandi carlisle. I love you all, I love your feedback, and the next chapter will be more optimistic (among other things...).

_{all of these lines across my face_  
tell you the story of who I am  
so many stories of where I’ve been  
and how I got to where I am} 

"You headed ou- woah."

Looking up from your phone, you see Nick headed to the door of your apartment. This wasn't the part that surprised you. In fact, you had been the one who asked him if he could make himself scarce for the evening in the first place. You didn't know how things were going to play out tonight with you and Brian after your uncomfortable conversation about the non-baby. Part of you was hoping that you could talk more about it, part of you was dreading the possibility of him bringing it up, and _no_ part of you wanted an outside observer around for any of it. 

Nick's first reaction to your request was "You want me to leave. So you can do...what? Sorry, sorry, what I meant was- so you can do _who_?"

He acted like he was bracing himself for you to take a swing at him, certainly not expecting that you would be visibly struggling not to cry. 

"Hey, Liv, hey. I'm sorry, I'm being an asshole. I'll shut up now."

"It's okay, I'm fine. It's not you."

"Did something happen with Elliot? Cassidy?" he guessed again when you shook your head. "Who do I need to have a little chat with this time?"

"Nick...it's not like that."

"It never is!"

You appreciate that he looks out for you- after all, you do the same for him- but sometimes you just can't handle getting the third degree. "Just do this for me. Please? We'll talk about it later, I promise," you lied. 

Which brings you to the present, where Nick is attempting to sneak past you. This may have something to do with the fact that he's wearing a flannel shirt, suspenders, and a fedora. 

"Bye," Brian says loudly, making sure Nick's aware he's been spotted.

You look him up and down, unable to keep from smirking. "I don't even know what to ask first. Nick Amaro, a closeted hipster."

"I'm not a hipster," he says defensively. "Sometimes I like to express myself when I'm not working, okay? It's my chance to be an individual."

"An individual? Dude, I saw a guy on the way home wearing that exact same thing. Only he was riding one of those old-timey bikes with the huge front wheel," Brian says, and you notice that for a second Nick looks genuinely stricken at the thought of his own unoriginality. "Then he tipped over. And I laughed. Fucking hipsters."

"The hipster scene is dead," Nick explains, like he can't believe you don't already know this. 

You can't wait to tell Fin about Nick's secret life. "So what non-hipster establishment will you be going to?"

"If you must know, I'm going to see the Pale Canadians."

"Never heard of them," you say, mouth twisted in a smirk.

"You wouldn't have. The band just formed yesterday afternoon, and only me and four other people were invited to the show. So I'm leaving now because I don't want to miss the opening act. And no, you haven't heard of them either, because they don't exist yet."

"Then how are they going to play?"

"It's just going to evolve organically, Liv. Art doesn't always follow a plan." 

You turned around as Nick left, looking at Brian as if to say _was that for real?_ Both of you snicker, trading smiles, and you can't remember the last time that happened so freely. Of course, it doesn't last. He bites his lip nervously and you go back to staring down at your hands, fingers tracing an imaginary ring around your nearly empty wineglass. 

The TV is on, albeit muted. It's been a year since that plane disappeared, according to the graphic in the corner of the screen, 365 days of the world moving headlong into the future while those people stay suspended in time. 

You know the feeling.

"Why the hell don't they look somewhere else?" Brian grumbles. "They keep doing the same fucking thing again and again when they don't even know if they're anywhere close to it. What's the point of that? Try something different."

"It's on land," you say softly, because this has been your theory the entire time, and you're going to collect quite a tidy sum of money from Elliot when it's proven correct. 

He watches you from the kitchen for a few minutes while you pretend you don't notice that you're being watched. "Liv, babe...you're still upset, aren't you, about this whole baby thing. You wanna talk?"

You don't say anything, but you don't leave the room either, which is basically your way of saying yes. He takes the hint and sits down on the opposite end of the couch, about to stretch his legs out and then thinking better of it.

"I'm sorry, you know, if I was a dick to you on the phone but...I guess it just caught me off guard. I kinda wish you would've given me a heads up or whatever."

"I wasn't sure, though, I didn't want to say anything until I knew. No point in you getting worried."

"You think I'd be worried? About if it was positive or...?"

"Wouldn't you, though?" you ask. "I mean, you seemed pretty relieved when I told you it was nothing." 

"I dunno that I was _relieved_ , more like I was still trying to wrap my head around it and...shit. You sounded so upset. I didn't want you to think, I dunno, that I was disappointed or mad at you. Like I thought you did something wrong because it was negative."

It takes every last bit of strength you have to keep a neutral expression on your face. Not now, you're not going to go down that road in your mind right now. "So if it'd been positive?"

"Then we'd start figuring out everything we need to do before the baby comes. Yeah, I'd be surprised, but...look, I know we never really talked about it, but it's not that I wouldn't want a kid with you. That's not it at all."

"Oh. So then what is...it?"

He leans forward, reaching toward your hand, but you don't move to meet him halfway. Instead you pick up the bottle of wine on the coffee table and pour yourself another glass- because fuck, there's no reason _not_ to anymore and you have three days worth of sobriety to make up for. "Liv. I. I'd just be worried...maybe it's not the best time for you right now, not while you're still working on getting better."

"You don't think I can do it. That I'd be a good mom."

"No, no. Babe...you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. _Nobody_ would love their kid more than you would. That's not even up for debate- but it's this huge thing and you've been through so much lately."

"Do you hear what you just said? 'It's this huge thing'? Doesn't really sound like you have much confidence in me."

He scrubs his hand over his face and you can tell he's thinking very carefully about what to say next. "Liv. Can you not put words in my mouth and just hear me out for a minute? Please? Because you would be an amazing mother and you would do whatever it takes for that baby- and that's what worries me. The kid would be fine, but it's you I worry about. You need to take care of _yourself_ right now."

"I'm fine. It's all over. I'm ready to move on," you say, which isn't a complete lie, because you are desperately ready to move past it all. It's just figuring out how to do so that's proven tougher than you ever imagined. 

"And you're doing a really good job at it. But that's my point, that I don't want anything to happen that would set you back, and the whole pregnancy thing, the whole giving birth to a baby thing...it's a lot to handle."

"Which you know, because you're an expert."

"My mom was an L&D nurse for thirty years. I have four sisters. I've picked up a few things."

You raise your hands slightly in defeat. "Fine. Enlighten me."

"All I'm saying is, I'd be afraid that it'd bring up some...stuff. That you're still working through."

"Oh. Oh," you say, swallowing hard because no way are you going to let him see you cry over this. "So that's what it's about. My 'stuff'. I had no idea you thought I was that fucked up."

His words are slow, measured, like he's trying with all his might to hold something back. "Olivia. That's not what I said, because that's not what I think. Like I just told you...if it'd been positive, I know you could do it and I'd do everything I could to help you through, because we're in this together. But I don't get it, why feeling like right now wouldn't be the best time somehow equals me thinking you're fucked up."

"So when _is_ it going to be a good time? Huh? Because _this_ , all this...'stuff', it's never gonna magically disappear. Shit's here to stay."

"Will you please just listen to me for a second? I didn't say anything was ever gonna 'magically disappear', but I think you're getting a little...jesus, it hasn't even been two weeks since the trial ended. We've both been through a lot, but if you give it time- it won't be like this forever."

"What if it is? What if this is it, it's not going to get any better. _I'm_ not going to get any better. Then what? If the only reason you're here is because you think I'm gonna change-"

"Woah, okay. Stop," he says, cutting you off as he stands up. "We're not going to do this tonight, I'm not going to fight with you when you're not listening to me. You've obviously been drinking and this is all hypothetical anyway...I get that you're upset but I won't keep arguing with you over something that doesn't exist."

"And thank God it doesn't, right? You really dodged a bullet there."

"For Christ's sake, will you _shut up_? I can't keep being your punching bag, okay, I'm not the one you're angry at-"

"Oh, and what made you decide th-"

"Go get mad at the son of a bitch who raped you!" he shouts, and there it is, the atomic weapon you'd both made a silent pact not to unleash, and now mutually assured destruction is all but certain.

"He didn't," you whisper, the two of you staring at one another in some sort of horrified fascination. Your nails are digging into your palm hard enough to draw blood and he looks like he might cry from sheer frustration. "He didn't."

"Liv..."

"Just leave me the fuck alone!" you yell in return, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind you, but it's not enough. It's never been enough and it never will be.

_{but these stories don’t mean anything  
when you’ve got no one to tell them to}_

"Just you and me, kid,” you announce to Nick as you crack open a beer bottle. “Brian’s gone again.”

"So where's Elliot?"

"Jesus, Nick, I don't have this revolving door...he's out of town. Some conference. How was the show last night?"

"Awesome. It was in the back room of this florist shop, right? Perfect setup. Amazing acoustics...one of the guys used a vintage typewriter as an instrument and played an eight minute solo."

"That's...nice."

"Yeah, I dunno. By the end of the set they were starting to sound a little too mainstream, you know? I can tell they're becoming sellouts."

"How? I thought they'd only been together for a day."

Nick shakes his head sadly. "You just don't get it, Liv. So tell me what happened last night while I was out?" 

"It was nothing," you say, waiting for the alcohol to kick in and start replacing that hollow feeling that just won't go away, the one that's been growing and growing ever since you saw the minus sign on that goddamn stick. But in the meanwhile... "Fuck, okay. This is how it's gonna work. I just want you to listen, got it? I don't want your opinion, I don't want advice...what I need's someone to let me get this off my chest. And, well, I think it'll be pretty obvious why I don't have anyone else I can tell."

"I'm always happy to be your last choice," Nick says, and you give him a hard stare.

"What did I just say about jokes? This isn't funny." 

He frowns, genuinely apologetic. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. I know. I..." You rub the bridge of your nose, sigh, and run a hand over your hair before continuing. "I thought I was pregnant."

The words came out so fast that he didn't understand what you were saying at first, and you almost broke your own rule about not laughing as you watched the expression on his face change from confusion to surprise and then back to confusion. "Oh...you mean...ohhh."

"Don't give me that look, I know who the father would've been. I'm not...seriously, why are you looking at me like that?"

"That's not even what I was thinking about! I'm...just keep going. So you _thought_ you were pregnant. Does that mean you're not?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean...I'm not. There's no baby, that's what I'm trying to say."

"And are you okay with that?" Nick asks gently. 

You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes focused on your feet as you shake your head. "Brian said it was probably for the best. He thinks the whole pregnancy/birth thing would just traumatize me all over again and that I need to focus on taking care of myself, not a baby."

"Do you think he's right?" You can't even get out your whispered 'yeah' before you start crying, everything you've kept so carefully held inside spilling out all at once. "Shit...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"Not your fault," you promise, reaching over to squeeze his hand when he holds it out to you. 

"Still, I'm sorry. Even if you think it would've been bad timing or whatever, you're allowed to be upset about it, there's nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah. Bad timing. I just thought that by now...it would be different. I promised I would-" You stop abruptly, shaking your head again. "It doesn't matter. It's not like...I shouldn't feel sad for something that never existed. It's ridiculous."

"You can feel whatever you want, Liv, there's no right or wrong answer. But what was it you said you promised?"

"Nothing. I didn't mean it, so just forget I said anything."

"You know that it's not your fault, right? It's not some sort of punishment, like you did something wrong and so now there's no baby. There's nothing you could've done differently because...you were never pregnant to begin with."

"I know that, Nick, that's why I said it's so fucking stupid of me to be acting like this over a baby that doesn't exist. I know that," you repeat angrily. "I don't need you to remind me."

"Okay, okay. But I never said you were being stupid. You said you didn't want my opinion, so I'm just trying to understand where you're coming from. That's all."

"Fucking...alright, okay. If I tell you something, this stays here. No one else. Seriously, I've never told this whole story to anyone," you say, hands twisting nervously in your lap. "But I was pregnant once."

To his credit, Nick doesn't look blown away. "Recently?"

"No, God no. I was 20. It was my junior year in college, right at the end of the semester. I'd been feeling like shit for a couple weeks but I thought oh, it's just stress, whatever. Because I was one of those girls that never slept. I was busy all the time- if I got five hours of sleep during the week, that was a really good night."

"You? Incapable of slowing down? I can't believe it." 

"I know, I've really changed, haven't I?" you ask with a hint of a smile on your face, one that vanishes quickly. "Anyway, I was used to being sick, so I ignored it. At some point I remember thinking huh, I'm a week or so late...but again, I figured it was stress and just didn't think about it anymore. Until it finally came, and- well. I'll spare you the details."

Nick makes a face, as if just thinking about it is upsetting his delicate sensibilities. "I appreciate that."

"Anytime. But I kept on going because I was too worried about everything I had to get done before break. It wasn't until one of my housemates saw me crying because I was in so much pain...she literally dragged me to her car and took me to the hospital. And of course, I bitched at her the entire way there because I 'didn't have time for this'."

"Did you, ah. Was there a boyfriend in the picture?"

"Yeah. Well, I mean...he existed, but. He had a lot going on, I wasn't gonna bother him."

"So what, you're sick all this time and he doesn't notice? Sounds like a real winner."

"He was busy," you insist, leaving out the part where he was busy with the wife and kids you didn't know he had. "But I got to the hospital and...fuck, I'm s-sorry."

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," Nick says, touching your arm lightly.

"I'm fine, I promise. I...they told me I'd been pregnant, like I was so stupid and how could I not know this already? The doctor said I lost the baby and then starts giving me this lecture about birth control- looking back, it makes me furious, but right then I was just in shock and so scared they might call my mom," you say, remembering how terrified you were at the prospect because you knew there was no way she'd let you go back to school after that. You'd lose your friends, your boyfriend, your only opportunity for _freedom_ \- it had been hard enough convincing her to let you go away to college in the first place, and she wasn't exactly big on giving you second chances. "A few hours later they sent me home and told me to rest for a couple days...and that was it. I just wanted to forget it ever happened." 

"But you didn't."

"Course not," you say with a sad smile. "In the moment I was so scared that I- it didn't really hit me until a week or so later when I was home for Christmas break. I finally had time to stop and think...way too much time. I don't know if I even left our apartment in the entire three weeks, because all I did was sleep or get wasted with my mom. It was our version of family bonding."

"Did she start suspecting something was up with you?"

"Not really...at least not enough to say anything about it, and there was no way I was going to tell her because I knew I'd just get in trouble. So I was alone all day and I was starting to obsess over it, you know, thinking how the hell could I _not_ have known? I had this baby and I was killing it and the whole time I had no fucking clue."

"You thought it was your fault that you lost it?"

"Yeah. Even though...there was this one nurse at the hospital, the _only_ person who was nice to me there. Maybe cause she couldn't have been more than a few years older than I was- anyway, I remember her sitting there with me, telling me it wasn't anything I did. That those things just happen. But I didn't believe her," you say, leaving out how part of you still doesn't, even 25 years later. How part of you is still convinced that you don't deserve anyone who loves you, that there's something fundamentally flawed about you and that's why everyone you've ever really cared about has eventually left. "I knew it had to be my fault. And the more I thought about it, the more I couldn't _stop_ thinking about it. How he...I decided somewhere along the way that it was a boy, can't remember why...he must have changed his mind, right, because who the hell would want me for a mother?"

"God...Liv, you know that's-"

You shake your head, cutting him off. "It was just this downward spiral, and the longer it went on...you know how it is when you're young and everything feels like it must be the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. I needed somebody to tell me to snap out of it, let it go, but my mom would've just made my life hell and I didn't trust my friends to keep it a secret. I think the only place that's worse than a sorority house when it comes to rumors is the squad room."

"You'd broken up with the boyfriend?" Nick asked, looking sufficiently sheepish because he knows that your comment about gossip was aimed at him.

"I...no. He was, how do I put this..."

"An asshole?"

"You could say that. To be fair, he never hit me, he wasn't _abusive_ verbally...but he was quite a bit older than me and he held that over my head. He was always right, I was this silly little girl who knew nothing. He was constantly in a bad mood and I was always the one to blame. You get what I mean."

"Yeah. That's an asshole."

"True. But back then...I just thought that's what people who love you do."

He gets it, you know he does. The two of you have spent more than one night having a drink in honor of your respective dysfunctional families. "So...he probably wasn't gonna be real sympathetic."

"No. Probably even less than my mom...and that's why I just kept it to myself, I was afraid he'd break up with me over it. I thought I'd feel better once I was back at school but it was more of the same. I hated myself so much, I mean...even this baby doesn't love me. Nobody does. I was thinking seriously about suicide, as much as I ever had, cause I just. I couldn't keep living like that."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Now this is where you're really going to think I'm crazy," you say, swiping your fingers underneath both eyes. "One day I borrowed a friend's car and just drove around for a while until I didn't know where I was. Middle of nowhere. And I stood out there by myself and cried and screamed as loud as I could, and I promised...I dunno. God? Myself? Whoever was listening, I promised that if this baby would give me a second chance someday, that I'd do better next time. That I'd have my shit together so I wouldn't fuck it up again. And so after that- things did start to get better. Slowly. But I never forgot." 

"Ohh...and now you think...?"

"It's stupid, okay, I know that and I know Brian thinks I'm overreacting because _there was no baby._ That's what I try to keep reminding myself, it's disappointing but it's ridiculous to act like I had one and lost it." 

"But you don't think you wanna talk to him about it?" Nick saw your expression and quickly backtracked. "That's okay. It's your call...but for what it's worth, I don't think he'd say you're being ridiculous."

"It's just...it's personal," which seems like a strange thing to say about someone like Brian who's seen so much of you at your absolute worst. But that's the irony of it, that some things are too big or scary or shameful to tell the person who wakes up next to you every morning, so they stay concealed by a blanket of words like _I'm fine. it's nothing. he didn't rape me._ Everything gets sorted into little boxes where everyone gets their own pieces of you, but no one gets too much, because that's the only way you know how to protect yourself. "If I do that, it's like admitting he was right, that it'd be too much for me to deal with right now and..."

"And you don't want him to think you're not okay."

You nod, trying not to sniffle loudly. "All this time he's been saying that I'm doing so good, that he can see I'm getting better every day and I've come so far, and then this whole baby thing comes up and suddenly I'm hearing what he _really_ thinks. And he's trying to tell me it's just bad timing...like that's going to make it alright? God! He doesn't get it. How do I know this wasn't supposed to be my second chance? I've waited for 25 years and it hasn't come, and now the clock's running out on me."

"Do you-"

"And maybe our relationship isn't always the greatest, me and Brian," you say, too deep in your own thoughts to realize Nick was talking, "but this is the first time in my life that I could honestly say this would've been a baby conceived out of love, and that I'm sure he wouldn't run out on me. He's a good guy and he'd stick around even if he hadn't planned on being a father. So I finally have all that going for me...but Brian's not the problem. _I'm_ the problem. _I'm_ the one who's fucked up. He knows that, a baby who doesn't even exist knows that, and don't tell me oh, things are gonna get better. Because maybe they're not."

"I won't, cause nobody can guarantee you they will...but I don't think you're fucked up. I think you're human."

"I hate him. That son of a bitch ruined my life. Even though he's locked up, he's still getting to me! I had this _one_ thing I wanted, this _one_ promise I made, but I couldn't even keep it. I said if I had another chance, I'd get it right this time...and it just feels like I failed, and now that's it, I'm not getting a third try. Things were finally starting to come together for me, Nick, this was supposed to be it but now I'm worse off than I've ever been.”

You steel yourself for some sort of trite, unwanted spiel about how that's not true, you don't know what the future holds, he can't hurt you anymore unless you let him, blah fucking blah blah. But instead, he just reaches his arm out in a silent offering. "It sucks, I know, it really fucking sucks," he says softly, letting you lean against him as the tears come pouring out in big gulping sobs. "It's not fair, not at all."

"Y-yeah," you finally manage to choke out, right as your phone starts buzzing. "Fuck, that's Elliot...will you get it for me? Gimme a second to pull myself together."

You blow your nose and try to get your breathing back under control as Nick answers the call. "Hey...it's Amaro...she's fine, relax, she's just getting out of the shower. What d'ya mean, how do I know? I heard the water turn off, what did you think? I...no, dumbass is gone again. Don't worry, I'm taking excellent care of her. You would be proud." 

"He's a great babysitter," you promise Elliot, taking the phone out of Nick's hand before Elliot has the chance to grill Junior any further. "Makes sure I don't stay up past my bedtime and everything."

"I'm glad he's there with you," Elliot says, like you're not a grown woman and a goddamn cop, but the truth of the matter is...

"I...yeah. I am too."

"What's wrong?"

"Hmm? I'm okay." You go into the bedroom, closing the door behind you before you sit down on the edge of the bed. "Everything's fine."

"Bullshit. Is it dumbass? What'd he do now?"

"What? No, it's not like that."

"It never is," and wow, didn't you just have this exact same conversation with Nick? 

"It's...it's been a long week, that's all. There's so much I'm trying to figure out before Cragen's incommunicado somewhere in the middle of the ocean and..." You sigh a little, admitting defeat. "I miss you, okay? Everything's piling up on me and I need...I just miss you. That's all."

He knows that, coming from you, that's basically a enormous cry for help. "What is it you need? Because if you need me to come back-"

"No, no. You've got shit to do, I've got shit to do, It'll be fine. I'll make it. Please don't start worrying about me, I'm okay," you promise, because you will be- as long as Brian doesn't come back earlier than he planned, that is. 

"Hmm. I'll be finished up here on Friday- when's your next day off?" When you tell him it's Saturday, he makes a humming sound like he's thinking this through. "You should come up here."

"You just said you'd be done on Friday."

"Yeah, well, it's taking longer than I thought it would. Imagine that," he says dryly. "What, you really want me to come over to your place? With Junior hanging around?"

He has a point. And even if Nick was gone, you must've suddenly developed a conscience (isn't that what that defense attorney said?), because you'd rather not fuck someone in the bed you share with someone else. Yeah, it's happened before, but it's a new year- time for turning over a new leaf and all that shit. "And why are you so eager to get rid of Nick? What exactly do you think's gonna happen?"

"Liv, come on. You know I'm not expecting anything-"

"Really? Because I am," you say, voice lowering.

"Jesus. You...so does that mean you'll be here?"

"I want to, believe me, I need to get the fuck out of here so badly," and it's not about getting laid, although you wouldn't mind if that happened. All you want is somewhere to go where you can forget that you're broken, somewhere you can shake off the residue of that goddamn trial and that goddamn minus sign on a stick and a relationship that seems poised to crash and burn no matter what you do. _Go get mad at the son of a bitch who raped you._ "But if I leave, and something happens while I'm away-"

"We'll take care of it," Nick calls out from the other side of the door.

You frown as you open it and see him standing right in front of you. "Are you listening in on me? Really?"

"Go," he says, ignoring your questions. "How far away will you be, an hour? We can handle it. Go up there Friday night, you'll be back on Sunday...I'll keep everything under control and if shit does go crazy, that's why we have phones. It's not like you'll be across the country."

"I actually agree with Junior," Elliot admits.

"Go. It'll be fine. I'll even cover for you if Brian comes back early. Go. Relax. Do... whatever the hell you're going to do."

You close your eyes and try to come up with a good reason to tell them both no, but all you hear is _you're not broken_ and _I love her. more than anything_ and all you can think about is the way he kissed you goodbye the last time he left your apartment. You know how risky it is to let yourself get sucked into relying on him again, that it never leads to anything good, but goddamnit...you need this. "Okay. I'll do it. I'll see you Friday."

_{you see the smile that’s on my mouth_  
it’s hiding the words that don’t come out  
all of my friends who think that I’m blessed  
they don’t know my head’s a mess  
no they don’t know who I really am  
and they don’t know what I’ve been through like you do} 


End file.
